Fighting the Squirrel
by The one called Anarya
Summary: The Ring is destroyed... But is that the end of it?..


I didn't want to write this... but someone dared me to, so here it is!  
  
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Fighting the Squirrel  
  
A small, brownish-red creature sat on a tree branch and looked down at the two shapes below it. They were standing there and talking, oblivious to the fact that they were watched by a pair of beady eyes. The rodent knew an animal lover when it saw one. That made it so much easier... All but grinning, the squirrel climbed down the tree carefully, faking the fear of humans most of its kind held. When it reached the ground and saw that the human and the elf noticed it, it sat back on its hind legs and made a soft creaking noise in its throat.  
  
The human smiled at it and leaned down, placing his hands on his knees. "Sorry, little one, but I don't have any nuts with me now."  
  
This was the chance it needed. With amazing agility even for a squirrel, it jumped forward and landed on the man's shoulder. The next second it was already scrambling up the tree again.  
  
The human shouted and stepped back with surprise at the sudden attack, tripped over a tree root, and fell flat on his back.  
  
His companion laughed. "Aragorn, king of Gondor, slayer of Orcs – brought down by a squirrel!"  
  
The human glared at the elf. As he got up, he noticed a faint stinging in the back of his neck. "That thing _bit_ me," he commented. "What did I ever do to it?"  
  
"Arwen will kill you," Legolas said suddenly.  
  
"What? Why?" Aragorn asked. And then he looked down at himself. The Evenstar was gone. "Oh no..."  
  
From above them came the squeaking of the squirrel.  
  
"It's laughing at us," Aragorn said spitefully.  
  
"It's laughing at _you_," the elf corrected.  
  
"I'll get you," the human said quietly, shaking his fist up at the tree branches. Then he started climbing.  
  
"Be careful," Legolas warned.  
  
"Oh, it's just a squirrel," Aragorn replied without looking down at his friend.  
  
Meanwhile the rodent hung the Evenstar on a branch, and started descending the tree trunk to face its enemy.  
  
Legolas watched as his friend disappeared in the leaves. Then, there was a sudden movement of the branches, and a moment later Aragorn fell to the ground, scrambled to his feet, and ran away from the tree with speed more characteristic of a cheetah than a human.  
  
Legolas rushed after him, but soon Aragorn was out of sight. The elf turned to the tree. Now this wasn't simply a matter of retrieving the Evenstar – it was a matter of revenge. He unsheathed his dagger and clenched it between his teeth, and started climbing the tree.  
  
Suddenly he heard a faint voice. It came from a higher branch. It was singing softly in a language he couldn't understand... enchanting... calling... calling... He climbed on as though in a trance, like a sailor who heard a siren's voice, knowing only that the smell of leaves was bitter, that the branches creaked dangerously in the growing wind, and that he had to get to the source of the voice...  
  
And then, suddenly, there it was before him – glittering in the green- tainted sunlight, so delicate, so beautiful, so... precious... The Evenstar.  
  
He reached out with a trembling hand, and stroked the silver necklace gently. The voice was still there, whispering into his ear softly, like the breath of the wind...  
  
And then, there was another sound. Legolas grabbed the Evenstar and whirled around to face the squirrel, its furry face filled with rage.  
  
For a moment they stood there, motionless, piercing each other with eyes like daggers. And then, all at once, the tree was alive with movement.  
  
It was a fierce and desperate battle, a mixture of claws and knives and teeth.  
  
Finally, Legolas had managed to get hold of the squirrel's throat with his left hand, still clutching the Evenstar with his right. He tightened his grip on both, until the Evenstar had cut into his palm and the squirrel's fragile neck snapped like a dry twig.  
  
Then he descended from the tree, and took another look at the necklace. No sound came from his throat, but his lips, as though moving independently of the brain, had framed the words... "_My Precious..._" 


End file.
